


A Place to Stand

by flammablehat



Series: Summerpornathon 2013 [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Healing Sex, Team Gluttony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/pseuds/flammablehat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many men have a stake in the Lady Vivian's survival.  It is strange to Elyan how few of them seem to have a stake in the Lady Vivian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place to Stand

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the quote "Give me a place to stand on, and I will move the Earth" by Archimedes.

“Couldn’t be bothered to come himself, could he?” Olaf snorted. Elyan sensed Merlin sneaking a look his way, but kept his own eyes forward. “I suppose we should take you to her, then.” 

He stood with effort. To Elyan he appeared thin, his skin loose like the weight had fallen from him too quickly. 

Merlin hefted his satchel of books, trotting after Olaf’s lead. Elyan followed.

xOx

If King Olaf was thin, the Lady Vivian was gaunt. Her hands shook where they rested in her lap. She gazed out her window, ignoring her father, the bow Elyan made her and that Merlin hurriedly copied.

“Well?” Olaf said. 

“May I?” Merlin gestured, hesitant. Olaf grunted. 

Merlin’s examination was brief and ginger, like he was afraid to touch her. She flinched under his hands as if they burned.

xOx

“What do you think?” Elyan asked Merlin later.

“Magic, and powerfully cast,” Merlin murmured, licking his finger to help turn a page in his book. “The same that ruled Arthur for a time.” 

“Gwen broke that spell,” Elyan said. 

Merlin hummed an agreement, poring over his pages.

xOx

“She’s been enthralled for far longer than Arthur was,” Merlin said, apologetic.

Olaf stalked on his dais like an agitated bear, calling for explanations, a counter charm, the culprit behind the deed. Merlin offered him cautious options, asking for patience while he researched. 

Elyan turned to Vivian where she sat in her chair. “Would you like to take a walk, milady?” He asked, soft. 

Her lip curled; she turned her face away.

xOx

“How can an affliction of the heart be treated with violence?” Elyan frowned.

Merlin lifted his shoulders. “She’s fiixated,” he said, hopeless. “Something, or someone, must shatter that fixation. As Gwen did for Arthur.” 

The logic of it unsettled Elyan. Gwen was a smith — she forged. It was against her nature to shatter.

xOx

Vivian drew her shawl tighter against the spring breeze. She used Elyan as a crutch, a solid thing to lean against but not speak to. Her eyes only warmed when they skimmed over Elyan’s crest.

He tore it from his cape when they returned to the castle and gave it to her. She eyed him as a fox eyes a hound, but took it anyway.

xOx

“No man,” Olaf growled, “touches my daughter.” He shoved Merlin’s books and papers into his chest, making him stumble.

xOx

Vivian spoke only of Arthur. Once she realized Elyan would not try to silence or punish her, her thoughts came in a torrent, desperate, tripping off her tongue.

Elyan let her lean against him. He listened.

xOx

“If she dies...” Merlin whispered. “Olaf will bring war down upon Camelot.”

Elyan laced and unlaced his fingers. _If she dies,_ he thought, _it will have been for nothing._

xOx

She sagged against him, sobbing.

“It hurts—” she choked. “It _hurts_.” 

“I know.” He tipped up her chin. “Vivian, you must be brave. I’ll grant anything you request of me. Anything,” he promised. “But I cannot if you do not ask.”

She grit her teeth and screamed, pounding her sharp fists against his shoulders until the strength left her. She slumped, shaking. 

Carefully, Elyan lowered them to sit upon the grass. 

“Please,” she finally breathed. “Please.” Her head lolled against his shoulder, her face bloodless. 

Elyan closed his eyes. He kissed her, gentle — helped her loop her arms around his neck. He turned up the hem of her dress so he could reach beneath, petting her legs for a long moment to help stave off her shivering. His fingers coaxed her, rubbing until she dampened for him, her sex going plump and sweet. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, freeing himself. She nodded, though her breath was shallow, fearful. “Command me, milady.” 

“ _Do_ it,” Vivian bit out, pressing her cheek to his. 

She froze as if stabbed when they met. Her breath stopped. Fear scalded him — what if this was the surest way to hurt her, to make certain she’d never recover? He cupped her face, needing to see her eyes, and their bodies shifted. Like a hammer applied to a scored piece of metal, Elyan felt something _give_. 

Vivian jolted, gasping, clinging to him while her body quaked. Wild laughter rocked her and she dug her nails into his back, chest heaving with the lightness of freedom.


End file.
